


The Illusion of Safety

by thesadchicken



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Angst, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-14
Updated: 2015-01-14
Packaged: 2018-03-07 14:38:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3176253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesadchicken/pseuds/thesadchicken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Guinan is waiting for news from Ro. Set after "Preemptive Strike".</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Illusion of Safety

**Author's Note:**

> A big thank you to my dear friend Susi for beta-reading this for me!

The bar was empty except for a young ensign, staring at the bottom of their glass with a dreamy smile, and a couple sitting on a couch in the far corner of the room, caught in a lazy embrace. Guinan was nonchalantly cleaning glasses and dishes, her gaze lost in the sea of stars shining outside one of the large windows. She lost track of time and although she didn’t exactly start when the doors swooshed open, she was at least a little surprised.

Then she saw him walk in, and she closed her eyes for a second. He didn’t have to tell her, she didn’t even have to look into his eyes to understand; his presence alone was explanation enough. She knew exactly what had happened and she didn’t want to hear him say it. For the first time in months, she wanted nothing more than to be alone, she wanted to snap at Picard to go away and leave her be. She didn’t want confirmation, she wanted her sorrow to wash upon her for a while and then she could bask in uncertainty. She could close her eyes from time to time and pretend that she was wrong, that she had imagined Jean-Luc coming in with bad news when there was actually nothing to worry about. But she just watched as he sat down at the bar in front of her, his movements deliberately slow and careful, like he was afraid he would startle her. He sighed and avoided eye contact when she handed him a glass of Saurian brandy. He was treating her like he barely knew her, like he was uncomfortable sitting there with her… he was treating her the way he would treat a child. Awkwardly and a little apprehensively.

She fought back the tears that stung her eyes and lifted her chin. She didn’t want to be treated that way, she hated being pitied. She would hear what he had to say and although she didn’t have to pretend she didn’t care –after all Jean-Luc knew her better than anyone- she would at least not allow herself to be pitied. She watched him take a long sip of his drink, stare at his hands for a moment, then sigh again, deeply.

“She’s gone,” he whispered, the words escaping his lips painfully, and Guinan had to clench her teeth.

The actual words hurt far more than she had expected, far more than they should have. She swallowed and let out a breath she didn’t know she had been holding. Then she waited.

“She decided to join the Maquis,” Picard added a few moments later, looking up into her eyes for the first time; “I’m sorry, Guinan.”

She nodded and tore her gaze from the captain’s hazel eyes. They were so sad she couldn’t bear the look of them, but at least the pity she had initially read in them was almost gone. Almost.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he said, ever-so-careful.

“You forget that I’m a Listener, Jean-Luc,” she said weakly, faking a smile.

“Are you sure you can…?” his question remained unfinished, hanging in the air between them.

Guinan chanced a second look into the captain’s eyes and through his own sadness she could still discern the pity, lingering there, making her wince. But then his eyes grew imploring, his jaw clenched slightly and she knew he needed to talk. He needed her to listen like she always did; he needed her to pretend it was nothing important, nothing that mattered, when her whole world was shattered. It was unlike Jean-Luc to be content with the illusion of safety, but perhaps he wasn’t aware of it. Or perhaps he was used to Guinan being the comforting shoulder to cry on whenever he lost someone and now that the loss was hers as much as his own he struggled with his pain, not knowing if he should share it or keep it to himself.

Well, she would allow him that selfishness. She would give him the illusion of safety because he deserved it, and she couldn’t stand seeing him in pain. It might even erase the pity from his eyes. She straightened up, took a deep breath and turned the corners of her mouth upward in a sad smile.

“Of course,” she lied, bracing her elbows on the counter, swallowing back the tears that once again threatened to flow down her cheeks.

And so for over half an hour, Guinan heard all about Ro Laren, about the good times and the bad times and the mission and the last glance and the last word and the anger and the fear and the deception. Picard spoke of her as if she were a stranger, as if she were… dead.

 _To him she probably is. But to me?_ Guinan knew nothing of how she felt except for the knot in her stomach and the shaking of her hands.

*

She left Ten Forward late that night and walked to Laren’s quarters. Maybe Jean-Luc was right, maybe the illusion of safety was, just this once, enough. She walked into the room and sighed, breathing in Laren’s smell, before heading towards the bed. She let herself fall on the pillows, losing her hat in the process. Only a week ago she had been here, in these same quarters, on this same bed, Ro’s body pressed against hers and they had been laughing…

“Give me my hat back, Laren,” she had demanded, trying to glare at the Bajoran and failing.

“No. I don’t think I like it,” Ro had said, raising an eyebrow teasingly; “Actually, I don’t think I like any of your clothes. Take them off!”

“I have work to do, you know,” Guinan had protested, but she hadn’t moved to get up, letting the younger woman bend down and kiss her neck.

“Let’s take the day off,” Laren had whispered against her skin, and Guinan had shuddered; “I’ll call sickbay and say I have some sort of Tellarite flu.”

It wasn’t every day that Guinan got to see Ro so relaxed and comfortable, joking and teasing and waving her hat over their heads. The El-Aurian had felt a wave of pride wash over her at the sight of Laren’s carefree smile; she trusted her enough to drop the heavy walls that usually encircled her, the fortress that kept her away from people, from the world, from herself. _Now Laren is happy_ , that was all Guinan wanted to know…

She opened her eyes and picked up her hat. _Now Laren is gone_ , that was all Guinan knew.


End file.
